


Raising Hell

by LadyWallace



Series: Raising Hell [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Also BAMF Juliet, Alternate Universe, BAMF Castiel, BAMF Dean Winchester, BAMF Sam Winchester, Captured Castiel, Cas is also kind of a Knight of Hell, Gen, I guess this is technically a S13 AU, It starts after S12, Knight of Hell Dean Winchester, Ruler of Hell Sam Winchester, also lots of paperwork because it's Hell, dark but good Winchesters, gen - Freeform, likable demon characters, lots of head chopping, rebellions and uprising
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-27
Packaged: 2020-10-11 23:37:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 21,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20554565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyWallace/pseuds/LadyWallace
Summary: AU—It came with conditions, but Sam didn't regret taking Crowley's blessing and becoming King of Hell, with Dean at his side as a Knight. It certainly came in handy when they had to calm riots and go up against rogue soldiers from Hell and Heaven to rescue their best friend.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, we're back with an all-new Supernatural adventure! (Also, spoilers for S12)
> 
> So, a few notes on this AU: This is set after Crowley dies in S12, except in this AU there is no Jack or Mary and Lucifer was the one who opened the door to the apocalypse world, where they successfully trapped him. Cas also didn't die and go to the empty. You will see a few characters who were introduced (or re-introduced) in S13&14 but aside from that this follows its own storyline.
> 
> Really this was just an excuse to write dark! but good Winchesters XD
> 
> Thanks to Aini NuFire for beta reading this and helping me fix my convoluted plot. XD
> 
> If you're wondering why I'm posting Sunday, it's because this prologue was very short and I thought I would post two days in a row, so you don't have to wait several days in between. Chapter One will be up Monday morning when I typically post ^_^

It came with conditions. But after a long discussion and arguments for both sides of the issue, Sam and Dean decided to go along with it.

After Lucifer had gone on his rampage and the ensuing debacle that had brought the British Men of Letters down on their heads, Sam, Dean, Cas and Crowley had trapped the Devil the only way they could: in the apocalyptic world he had opened up to wreak havoc on theirs.

The fight had been long, messy, and came with the condition that a sacrifice had to be made to close the gate.

They just still couldn't believe it had been Crowley to make the sacrifice. After all the years of being an on-off ally, the kind of person who seemingly always only did things for his own benefit, Crowley had actually been the one to sacrifice himself for the Winchesters, and really, the world. Despite everything the former crossroads demon and disgraced King of Hell had been, and had done, he had died a hero. And this time, Lucifer was never coming back.

They didn't realize it at first, simply glad Lucifer was gone for good this time, but it left them with a dilemma: No one was ruling Hell anymore.

They didn't have a lot of time to think about it, too busy cleaning up the mess Lucifer had left in his wake, but then one day a demon had shown up at the bunker.

"What the hell do you want?" Dean asked the suited, well-kempt demon who stood there looking down his nose a little at them, but with resignation.

"I come with regards from the former King of Hell, Crowley," the demon said. "I'm his steward, Wheatly."

"Okay, and why are you here?" Sam asked.

The demon looked weary, but he plucked a rolled and sealed parchment from his jacket. "The former king set up a condition, a contract, if he were to die, naming the Winchester brothers as his successors."

Sam and Dean stood there, stupefied, Cas was speechless at their side, his hand not having left his angel blade since the demon showed up.

"I'm sorry, what?" Dean demanded when he finally regained the power of speech.

The demon handed him the scroll with a sigh. "Why don't we sit down and discuss this?"

It turned out that it was like this: Crowley had been so tired of the disloyalty and infighting among the demons that he couldn't stand the thought of another one gaining his throne, especially since half the bastards were still for Lucifer anyway. He also had the feeling he was going to go out in their battle against the Devil so he made up a contract in case the worst happened.

The contract detailed that Sam Winchester would take on his powers again, without the demon blood, thankfully, and take the throne as Azazel had meant for him all those years ago. He would have the power to keep the demons in check, but with the rationality of a human, and perhaps more importantly, the rationality of Sam Winchester. Crowley had seen the young man's leadership skills arise in the last couple years and had been watching him closely, liking more and more what he saw.

Dean, of course, wasn't really cut out for being a king, but he was the best warrior Crowley had ever seen. He had respect and fear from all corners of the supernatural world for his prowess. And Sam would need a Knight of Hell at his side to keep the demons in check. So Dean would be given the powers of the Mark of Cain, without the pesky Mark itself to corrupt him.

All in all, they would rule together, keeping Hell in check, and making sure things were running smoothly. After all, at the end of the day, it was hardly more than doing paperwork and settling petty squabbles between the demons.

Sam and Dean stared at each other as they read over the contract, not really sure what to think.

"I mean…" Sam started then stopped.

Cas glanced between both of them with growing alarm. "You're not seriously considering…"

"I mean," Dean repeated his brother. "Think about it for a minute, Cas…"

"Yes, actually _think_ about it," the angel said wryly, but picked up the contract to study in full, brow furrowing.

"You don't have to decide now," the steward said, seeming a bit relieved by the thought of their hesitation. "Deliberate amongst yourselves, but if you don't decide soon, I will warn you, someone will likely take the place for you. Demons are hardly patient for that kind of thing, and many of them were simply waiting for Crowley to die before they made a move."

"We'll think about it," Dean said in dismissal. The demon left and their discussion began in earnest.

It wasn't like the job came without its perks. They wouldn't even have to stay in Hell all the time, just pop down there once in a while to make sure everything was running smoothly. After all, that worked in every corporate organization. Their heightened powers would make hunting easier…there was also the assumedly immortal aspect—it would certainly make them harder to kill.

And there was the big one too: If they had control of Hell, then no one else would. No new baddie they would have to put into his place. They had been lucky with Crowley the last few years, as he kept his demons in check, but the next demon, or whatever, to take the throne might not be as thoughtful.

Castiel wasn't happy with their decision, but he did understand too. And in light of recent events, no one could really blame the Winchesters for wanting a little extra power. Especially when it didn't come with a disclaimer this time.

So, they summoned the demon steward back and handed him the signed contract.

"We're in."


	2. Chapter One

Dean tossed his duffle bag onto the map table and ran a hand over his face. "Ugh, that was a run."

Sam chuckled, unloading his own bags from his shoulders. "What's the matter? I thought you lived for taking out vampires one whole nest at a time."

Dean shrugged and went over to the mini fridge, pulling out two beers. "Well, yeah, but that doesn't mean it isn't hard work." He handed one bottle to Sam, then popped the top of his own and took a swig. "You heard from Cas yet?"

"He texted me on the way back, said he was just finishing up something in Illinois and should be back tomorrow."

Dean nodded and took a seat, propping his feet up on the table as Sam pulled his laptop out to check his emails. Maybe if they were lucky, they could have a few days off.

That was when there was a knock at the door. Dean frowned, swinging his feet back onto the floor and standing up. "Cas couldn't have gotten back that quickly."

Sam pulled a gun from under the table, though Dean snorted. He really didn't need it, after all, though neither of them had gotten out of the habit of using weapons—doing things the old-fashioned way. Not that there was anything wrong with that.

Besides, there was probably only one other person it would be.

Dean clunked up the stairs and pulled the door open, revealing the tidy demon steward standing in front of him.

"Jeeves," Dean said in greeting.

Wheatly let out a barely perceptible long-suffering sigh as he stepped into the bunker. "Master Winchester."

"What brings you here?" Dean asked as they descended the stairs.

"The council meeting," Wheatly told him, glancing over at Sam. "It's still to be held tomorrow, is it not?"

Sam groaned under his breath, putting the gun back into its hidden holster. "Yeah."

Wheatly sniffed. "Is my lord upset with his duties? I'm sure you understand the importance—"

"Yeah, yeah, we understand," Dean cut in. "We just got back from a long hunt is all, we'd like to sleep in for one day if that's not too much to ask."

"Unfortunately, the meeting has already been called and is set for tomorrow," Wheatly informed them with some smugness. He constantly sought to get back at them for their 'inferiority' by playing the perfect steward all while looking down his nose at them. "Unless you want to cancel?"

"No," Sam said. "We'll be there as usual."

"Very good, I'll see you then." He then turned swiftly and climbed back up the stairs. The door closed behind him with a squeak and a bang.

Dean sighed, looking regrettably at his half-drunk beer. "Call Cas about our change of plans. I guess we're going to Hell."

_~~~~~~~_

_A year later_ and the contract had turned out better than they had expected. Or at least there hadn't been any repercussions from it so far.

The initial binding of the contract had not been fun. They'd gone down to Hell to see it done, which had brought back unwanted memories for both brothers, and Cas who had insisted on sticking with them in their decision, especially because he still didn't really like it. He didn't trust the demons either even though he had read over the contract multiple times.

But once they had discussed the terms with Steward Wheatly and several of Hell's impartial paper pushers, they decided that they were going to go through with it.

The contract had to be signed in blood so upon Wheatley's instruction, the brothers took up a knife and sliced through their palms, but hesitated before allowing the blood to drip onto the paper.

"You know there's no going back, right?" Dean said to himself as well as to Sam.

"Yeah, I know," Sam replied with a deep breath. But they'd talked about this at length. No one was dying over this, there were no cosmic consequences that they knew of, it was a sacrifice they were willing to make to help save the world they'd always fought for.

They took a deep breath, and with Cas looking on, tight-jawed and pale faced, they moved their bloody hands over the contract.

As the crimson drops fell onto the parchment, inexplicably forming into their signatures, the change had already started.

It had not been pleasant.

The demons had failed to warn them about the physical agony of the change. Later they would find the book Crowley had written for them where it explained everything, but unfortunately, they weren't given that until they woke up three days later.

They spent those three days tossing in agony in bed, fevered. Dean remembered his blood boiling, Sam felt akin to when he had purged the demon blood from his system.

Cas stayed at their sides the whole time, tending their illness, furious at them and the demons who tread around the brothers' bedchamber in Hell, interested in the proceedings until the angel kicked them all out.

But once the agony stopped and they were lucid again, it wasn't so bad at all. Sam had feared he would feel the heady pull of darkness and power that he had felt when he had been drinking demon blood, but there was none of that. It wasn't until he'd thrown a glass across the room with barely a thought that he even realized anything was different. He could feel the demons around him, could easily reach out with his mind to manipulate them if needed. But besides needing a little practice, there seemed to be no side-effects.

Dean felt the same power rushing through his veins that he had felt when wearing the Mark of Cain, but there was none of the corruption, the evil. There was just him—upgraded to super demonic soldier. A Knight of Hell. He laughed as he sparred with Cas for the first time afterward, the angel not even having to pull punches and actually struggling to hold his own, a bit disgruntled to say the least.

Whatever had happened to their physiology it was only physical, not at all mental, which allowed them both to breathe sighs of relief. They were still themselves, but with powers—and a pair of black eyes they could conjure at will if they wished.

Even Cas wasn't entirely sure what had been done to them, though he'd done enough poking and prodding until he was satisfied that nothing was damaging. They decided that their condition must have just been a result of a very well-formed contract on Crowley's part. Because as far as Cas could tell, they weren't exactly demons, but they certainly weren't exactly human anymore either.

After they recovered from the change, they fully realized just how much work Crowley had put into this. He'd even set up their own wing of Hell, giving them a huge suite to live in while they were down there—complete with wet bar.

He'd left a book detailing their duties, giving pointers and a list of demons to watch out for—rising stars who might cause trouble. He'd also left them each a gift, sitting on the table in their suite.

Sam opened his with a frown, half amused and half confused to see it was a very expensive and well-tailored suit. Crowley had left a note to go with it:

_Moose,_

_Please, for the love of all that is unholy, leave the flannel topside. If you are to be king, you have a reputation to uphold. This will help you gain the respect of your subjects. And I know how much you love dogs—Juliet is also yours. Take good care of her._

Dean's gift was a beautiful katana, made out of re-forged angel blades and inscribed with the same runes as the demon killing knife. The note that Crowley left him said:

_Squirrel,_

_I thought the new Knight of Hell could use a worthy blade to keep his accident-prone brother alive, and since the Precious isn't compatible without the Mark (and should stay where it is in a place I will never disclose) I had this made. It should kill just about as many things as that old gun you were in love with._

Dean and Sam shook their heads.

"That bastard," Dean muttered though there was affection in his voice. He went to the bar and poured two glasses, and they drank a toast to Crowley's memory.

And to the road ahead of them.

_~~~~~~~_

_Dean packed his bags_ and snorted when Sam came out of his room, dressed in the well-tailored, all black suit. He hadn't bothered with a tie, instead leaving the top couple buttons undone, giving him a rakish look.

"Dude, seriously still with the suit? You don't think it's been long enough now?"

Sam shrugged. "Honestly, I think it fits. Crowley said to look the part, I don't want to dishonor his memory."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Yeah. What you're really saying is that you love it."

Sam smirked, not replying, but Dean could see right through him. And he had to admit, his brother _did_ look the part. Especially when he sat in the throne to take council. Dean wouldn't admit it out loud, but his little brother had a commanding presence to be proud of. Hell had grudgingly fallen under his rule within the first month and had stayed that way ever since.

"Like it's any worse than that biker get-up you wear," Sam retorted.

Dean glowered at him, folding his arms over his chest. "You said look the part. I can't have a little fun?"

"It's just a little over the top," Sam said.

"Whatever," Dean muttered, tugging at his new favorite black leather jacket a bit self-consciously, and grabbed the bag with his katana in it. "Let's get going."

They went out to the car and set off for the hell portal.

Crowley had also put in a backdoor for them, just north of Lebanon so they wouldn't have far to go. And better yet, only they had the key, so no one could accidently stumble in there.

They pulled up to the spot, seeing Cas' truck parked there already with the angel leaning against it, waiting for them.

Cas had made it clear when this started that they were never going to Hell without him. At least not for council meetings or anything really important. And Dean had been okay with that. It was only fair, after all. While Cas had come to accept their choice and admit to its advantages, he still didn't trust demons. Neither did Dean.

But then, that had been Crowley's Rule Number One is his book of instructions too.

The angel's presence had been a novelty to the other demons, some wary, some far too interested, but Cas had ignored them and the catcalls, glowering them into submission, and it was obvious what would happen to the demons if they even looked at the Winchester angel wrong. No one wanted to face the wrath of the new King and Knight of Hell.

"Hey, Cas," Sam greeted the angel as they strode up to the gate. "How was the hunt?"

"A success," Cas replied, rolling his eyes slightly when he saw Dean. "You're still wearing that ridiculous outfit?"

"And no one mentions Mr. Armani over here?" Dean groused. "This coming from the guy who said I looked like a lumberjack once."

"And you think this is an improvement?" Cas asked blandly.

Dean glowered at him. "Okay, seriously, what's wrong with it?"

"Nothing's really wrong with it, Dean," Sam tired. "It's just…don't you think you're trying a little hard? I mean the jacket is one thing but with the black t-shirt, jeans and boots to go with it…" He and Cas shared a look.

Dean huffed and slung his katana across his back, buckling the belt that held it across his chest. "You're one to talk with your all black suit. And you know what, I'm not going to pay attention to fashion advice from the guy who has exclusively worn a trench coat for the ten years I've known him. Let's go."

He felt Sam and Cas smirking behind him, as he took out his key and opened the gate.

There was always the initial waft of Hell, the ambient scene of sulfur and brimstone, that brought back memories when they first stepped in, but Dean had actually grown used to it. Also knowing that their past enemies were dead and Lucifer was in a whole other reality helped.

Sam sighed. "Let's do this."

Steward Wheatly was waiting for them in the throne room where they held the council meetings. The demons were already gathered and looked up, pretending alertness when the Winchesters walked in.

"His Majesty the King," Wheatly said, a barely perceived smirk in Sam's direction as the younger Winchester's jaw twitched at the formality.

Sam nodded to his gathered subjects and strode toward the throne, taking a seat, Dean and Cas took up position on either side and Dean looked out over the gathered demons.

Thankfully there didn't seem to be any of the typical trouble-makers today. Sam had been increasing their duties to keep them busy and so far, it seemed to be working. But then, hell was a constantly fluctuating place and you never knew who was going to want to cause trouble and for what reason.

Sam nodded to Wheatly and the demon clapped his hands, quieting the gathered crowd. "The council meeting will begin."

"Okay, let's start out with the monthly reports," Sam said and called one of the demons forward. "Steven?"

Dean's mind wandered during the paperwork portion of the meeting, glad he didn't have to deal with that. He looked around the room instead, trying to spot any malcontent. Everything looked good today. They may just get through a meeting without a squabble.

After all the heads from different departments came forward to make their reports, they settled back as Sam cleared his throat.

"It's been about a year since I took the throne," he said. "And it's no secret that Hell has gone through a lot in the last few years, but I hope to keep it functioning as efficiently as possible. I'd like you to know that if you have any suggestions or comments about how things have been going, I'm willing to hear them and discuss them with you."

The door to the throne room slammed open dramatically and a figure strode through, stopping in mock embarrassment when he saw the meeting already in progress.

"Oh, am I late? I'm terribly sorry, I had some work to finish up."

"Oh god," Dean heard Cas mutter. "Him again?"

"Son of a bitch," Dean added, sharing his sentiment. It looked like his hope for a squabble-free council meeting had been too much to ask for after all.

"Kipling," Sam said with barely concealed contempt. "Good of you to join us."

The other demons in the room all turned to the newcomer, some with contempt, some with interest. Too much interest, Dean noted. He would have to rectify that later.

Kipling was one of the ones Crowley had written down as a possible problem. He was ambitious, cocky, and worst of all, just damned annoying. He was like the worst demonic car salesman ever, and had recently been trying to work his way up to Crowley's fame of King of the Crossroads. To Dean's chagrin, so far, he seemed to be succeeding.

Recently though, they had noted that Kipling had gone from the territory of possible problem, to definitely a problem. Tat this point they were really just waiting for him to make his move.

Kipling came before the throne and gave a bow that was all but mocking. Cas glowered and Dean took a step forward in warning before Sam lifted his hand from the throne to keep him where he was.

"Do you have your reports for the month, Kipling?" Sam prompted.

"Of course, your majesty," Kipling said and reached into his coat, pulling out a neatly rolled scroll. Dean rolled his eyes. Some of the demons were really old fashioned. Sam had tried to set up a task manager on a computer system for them to use to send in their reports, but only some of the demons took to technology. Most of them were completely clueless, and Sam had given up pretty quickly. Even he didn't have the patience to teach demons the finer points of IT.

Sam took the scroll and glanced over it briefly before handing it to Wheatly. "Twenty-three crossroads deals—that's pretty impressive."

Originally, they had talked about refusing to let the demons do crossroads deals anymore, but Wheatly had encouraged them not to. After all, that was one of Hell's largest industries, and the demons would riot of they weren't allowed to. They just had to file a report for each soul which had to be reviewed by the Winchesters and deemed worthy to protect idiots from selling their souls for nothing. Dean still thought those were the ones who should get less mercy, but the fact was, very few people actually ever believed the demons when they made the deals. They just thought they had made a deal with a very important business man or the mob. No one actually expected hellhounds to come for them.

Kipling preened, while simultaneously effecting a humble attitude. "It was a good month, my lord."

"And you have the forms done?" Sam asked with a raised eyebrow.

Kipling's face froze with his smile. "I'll go fetch them, my lord."

Sam nodded and called to the other demons assembled. "Alright, then, I guess we'll move onto the crossroads reports."

All the crossroads demons lined up with the forms to wait for the Winchesters to study each one and either sign them or deny them. Dean hated this. The last thing he had imagined doing as a Knight of Hell was paperwork. No wonder Crowley had always been hanging around topside bothering them. He found he had a new appreciation for the previous King of Hell.

Kipling was the last one, and when Sam handed back the forms that were okayed by him and Dean, the demon frowned indignantly.

"My lord, this is less than half of my deals for the month!" he said.

"Yes, we reviewed them as we always do, and those are the only ones I'm willing to sign off on," Sam said matter-of-factly.

"But my commissions, I—"

"Hey, Kipling, move on," Dean said in no unfamiliar terms.

The demon pressed his lips together—at least he was no longer smirking—and took his forms, leaving the dais. As he headed back toward the gathered demons he caught the eye of one of the other demons—one named Sykes—briefly and Dean noted that for future reference, not quite sure what was going on there.

"Does anyone else have any concerns they want to bring up?" Sam asked.

One of the other crossroads demons raised his hand. "My lord, you have been consistently passing on less than half of everyone's deals since you started ruling. Some of us don't even get as many as Mr. Kipling, and—"

"And I made the rules for a reason," Sam cut in. "I know some of you don't like this, but it's the alternative you're going to have to deal with. I could always stop crossroads deals all together."

Some murmurs and grumbles wafted through the room, but settled when Dean and Cas looked like they meant business, reaching for their weapons. The demons knew well enough that their Knight of Hell and the King's honorary angelic guard were not afraid to follow up on any threat. Dean'd had a few malcontents he'd had to deal with since Sam took the throne and after the first couple the demons realized what they should have in the first place: Sam Winchester may be their new ruler, but he and his brother still weren't afraid to kill demons.

"Very well then, I guess that concludes our meeting," Sam said tersely. "If anyone has any concerns, you can take them up with Wheatly and he'll make me aware of them."

And then he stood from the throne without another chance for the demons to protest and headed through the crowd to the door, Dean and Cas flanking him.

Dean stopped at the door and watched the demons at their back as the King of Hell left the building.


	3. Chapter Two

The three retired to their suite, Wheatly following behind them. Sam kept his composure unhindered until they were behind their own doors, then he allowed himself to slump slightly, and a look of worry began to encroach on his face.

"Well, that could have gone better," he muttered.

"Don't be so hard on yourself, my lord," Wheatly said in as caring a voice as he could muster. "It didn't end in a riot either. Believe it or not, that's actually a miracle if I do say so myself. I was sure that Master Winchester was going to have to forcibly renew order."

"Well, thanks for the vote of confidence," Sam snorted.

"Cheer up, Sammy, he's right. It didn't completely go to hell." Dean sighed as he grabbed a beer from the sideboard. "Someday I'm gonna have to stop using that term, I guess."

"But if this continues, then there _will_ be riots," Sam said tiredly, shrugging his suit coat off and slumping onto the couch in the sitting room. "I know the demons aren't happy about the arrangement with the crossroads deals, but I can't in good conscious go back to the way things were either. I don't know. Maybe I have been too ambitious. Maybe I've made the same mistake as Crowley."

"Sam, demons, like angels, are natural followers," Cas cut in. "Even though they pretend not to be. If you can show them that you can hold your position and stick to your principles, they will respect you more than if you go back on them. They want a leader, even if they don't always agree with him."

"At the end of the day, demons just want to be left alone to do what they do best, and not have to think about the hard stuff, right, Jeeves?" Dean commented, glancing over at Wheatly.

The steward gave a longsuffering, barely audible, sigh. "Putting it crudely, yes."

"So you just gotta win them over, Sammy, and I mean, come on, they put up with _us_ taking over down here. They'll come around to this too eventually."

He reached into the fridge again and pulled out more beers for Sam and Cas, offering one to Wheatly too though the demon declined.

"If you don't need me for anything else, my lords, I think it best I am available to answer questions?"

Sam nodded. "Thanks, Wheatly, you can go."

The steward bowed and beat a hasty retreat. Sam nearly smirked. He got the feeling even his indominable steward didn't have much faith in Hell not falling to pieces if things continued in the same strain.

Dean huffed a sigh and pulled the katana in its sheath from across his back, setting it down on the table as he took a seat on the other side of the sofa, putting his feet up on the coffee table. "You know, Sammy, if you're that upset about what a few demons think of you, maybe we should figure out some new tactics. Capital punishment comes to mind."

Sam rolled his eyes. "You enjoy playing a tyrant way too much, Dean."

Dean shrugged taking a long pull of his beer. "Hey, I've killed demons and monsters most of my life. I can't help it if it comes naturally."

The door opened then and the Winchesters and Cas all looked up in surprise to see Kipling coming in with a determined stride, Wheatly rushing behind him with a mortified expression.

"Your majesty, I'm sorry, he just walked in…"

Sam waved Wheatly away. "It's fine. What do you want, Kipling?"

The demon stood there firmly. "I want to talk about the soul reports. My lord."

Dean grunted, not bothering to move. "You think you can just barge in here to our private quarters and demand answers of your king?"

Sam shot him a look, wishing Dean would be a little less eager to throw his title around. It made him sound like a class-A douchebag. "Kipling, I have no problem discussing issues with you, but you have to understand that our policy on the crossroads deals is not going to change. I said that when I took over and I stand by that."

"What gave you the right to come in here and change things that have been this way for eons?" Kipling demanded.

"Hey, enough," Cas growled, pulling his blade.

Dean was also on his feet. "You're gonna be like this, I'll remove you myself." He flicked his eyes black for good measure making Sam almost want to shake his head. He stood and faced Kipling himself, a head taller than the demon.

"It is the way it is, Kipling. You can't expect every ruler to abide by the same rules."

"But this isn't some new world democracy, this is Hell! It works the way it does because it has always worked that way. If you change one thing, the whole system could collapse." He turned to Cas with a sneer. "Just look at what happened to Heaven." He shook his head in disgust. "I might even be so inclined to think that you're letting most of our souls slip through because you're working with the angels. Trying to get them more wayward souls to deprive us of the chance to gain more recruits."

Sam frowned. "No, Kipling."

"You deny it, but we're not fooled. After all, you bring your pet angel here to lord over us too, he's probably the one who tells you which souls they want."

"Enough," Sam snapped. "Wheatly."

The steward came forward and grabbed Kipling by the arm. "Come Mr. Kipling, you've outstayed your welcome."

Kipling turned to glower over his shoulder at the Winchesters as he was escorted from the room. "We're not blind, Winchester. And we don't trust you."

The three stood there in silence for a long moment before Dean huffed a breath.

"Wow, overreaction much?"

Sam screwed up his mouth as he lowered himself back onto the sofa. "I guess I should have been expecting that."

Dean sat next to him, taking up his beer again. "Is he really stupid enough to think that our goal is sending more souls to Heaven?"

Sam frowned at his brother. "Well…I mean, it kind of is, Dean. We're keeping people from being tormented for decades like we were just for making a stupid decision. Even if Heaven isn't really all it's cracked up to be, it's still better than here." He cast an apologetic look toward Cas, but the angel didn't seem to take offense, simply gave a wry look as he resumed his own seat.

"Perhaps the demons think my presence means you are allied with Heaven," Cas said almost apologetically. "Though I had assumed that most of the supernatural world knew of my position by now."

"It's not you, Cas, it's me," Sam said with a shrug. "We may have gotten rid of the Lucifer loyalists, but there's still demons down here with their own aspirations, who really don't want to see Dean and I ruling considering everything we've done in the past."

"And it seems like Kipling has joined the ranks of the ones with aspirations," Dean sighed and stood up, unzipping his ridiculous biker jacket and heading toward his room. "I just hope this doesn't turn into one of those situations where it's more trouble than it's worth. If you think he's going to be that much of a problem."

"When has he not been a problem?" Sam said wryly. The demon played coy but Sam had seen through that directly and, frankly, "Kip" hadn't seemed to care all that much about hiding it either. Sam knew his true intentions were to move up the ladder, he just wasn't sure how far the demon would go or when. "We'll just keep an eye on him."

Cas grumbled and Dean snorted. "I hate that bastard. Why bother with all the crap? If you ask me, I think I should just gank him and be done with it."

Sam smirked. "Not now when everyone is already in an uproar. But don't worry, I'll give you the honor if it has to be done. But Kipling has followers, and despite the whole of the situation, if we just get rid of him because he raised a question, then we really will have a problem on our hands."

Dean shrugged as if to say he was okay with that and opened his door, heading into his room.

A yelp sounded, following by Dean cursing.

"Sam, dammit! I told you to keep your dog out of my room!"

Sam bit back a chuckle, standing up to go over to Dean's door, looking in. Juliet was lounging in the middle of Dean's bed, watching him with half-lidded eyes.

"Juliet," Sam said in a softly scolding voice. "Come here."

She languidly rose and stretched, leaping to the floor and plodding toward the door, giving Dean a look. The elder Winchester pressed himself against the wall slightly as she passed, making Sam unable to help huffing a laugh.

"This is why I freakin' hate dogs," Dean muttered.

Juliet growled a bit, but stayed at Sam's side as Dean retreated further away.

"Juliet, we talked about going into Dean's room—he likes his privacy," Sam told the dog, who whined and sat on her haunches, glowing red eyes looking up at Sam expectantly.

Sam rolled his slightly and went to the fridge where he kept some steaks for treats. He grabbed one and tossed it to her before patting her on the head.

"Look, Sam, I know you always wanted a dog and everything, but this is honestly ridiculous," Dean growled as he came out of his room, carrying Crowley's journal. "I mean, she's a freaking hellhound, man!"

Sam did feel a little bad, considering Dean's past experiences with hellhounds, but…he liked Juliet. And she surprisingly liked him, which shocked everyone considering how loyal she had been to Crowley. Besides, it was good to have an efficient guard for their rooms when he and Dean were back on earth when Wheatly had other duties to see to.

Juliet chowed down on her snack before she growled warily at Cas, the angel watching her with about as much love as Dean, before she settled by Sam's side, resting her chin on his knee.

"No growling," Sam told her firmly.

Dean rolled his eyes as he flipped through the book. "You know Sykes, right, Sam?"

Sam frowned. "Yeah, he's another crossroads demon. Why?"

Dean frowned, still flipping through the book. "Crowley didn't mention him as a problem, and yet I just get this feeling about the guy."

"He did seem to be interested in Kipling when he entered the room," Cas agreed. "Which can't be a good thing."

"We'll keep an eye on him, I'll warn Wheatly too," Sam said, absently scratching Juliet behind the ears. "I think it might be best to keep an eye on the crossroads deals the next few weeks. Monitor them and the demons' reactions closer." He sighed. "They won't like it, it will be just as bad as when we first came here. I hope it won't incite conflict."

"Don't worry about it," Dean said, sending a loving glance toward his katana. "You just think about your kingly duties. Cas and I will handle the rest."

"Thanks," Sam said genuinely, a little tension easing from him. He was definitely grateful to have his brothers here to help him in this crazy position that had been thrust upon him.

_~~~~~~~_

_Castiel always breathed_ a sigh of relief when they got back from their trips to Hell. The atmosphere was naturally oppressive to angels, but even beyond that, it brought back memories of his desperate battle through the further reaches to get to Dean, and later, fighting his way to the Cage to free Sam. Needless to say neither were pleasant memories.

But the thought of Sam and Dean down there alone was even harder to bear, and he knew that his presence helped keep the demons in line—even if he was forced to endure their ridiculous cat-calls. Thankfully, he had glowered so much at them they had lost their amusement in doing so a while back. And now, he knew it was even more important for him to be there for the Winchesters, especially if they were going to have trouble. As Crowley had proven, it wasn't uncommon for the court to try and stick a dagger in the King of Hell's back. Castiel and Dean were going to make sure that didn't happen at any cost, but the risk was still there.

They'd had to stay down there for a couple days, answering questions and grievances almost like a people's court and all of them were glad to be topside again.

"Ugh, this is why I hate politics. Give me something to punch again. I could use another vamp nest right about now," Dean said as they trudged back into the bunker.

Sam sighed as he shed his suit coat and folded it over his arm. "I'd rather have a day off instead of looking for another hunt, but if you and Cas want to do that, go for it," he said.

"I would prefer not to myself unless it's urgent," Castiel put in. He would rather be close to both Winchesters should something go wrong in Hell while they were gone.

Dean snorted. "Fine. I could use at least one day off myself."

They headed into the kitchen so the brothers could get something to eat, Castiel himself decided he could do with a cup of coffee after all of that.

As they were sitting at the table eating lunch, Sam glanced across at Castiel. "Have you heard from Heaven at all lately, Cas?"

Castiel looked down into his mug, shaking his head. "No. I don't really listen in on angel radio anymore. Unless someone contacts me directly, I don't hear anything. I figured Naomi had it all handled." Nothing catastrophic had happened either so he was pretty sure Heaven was still intact. "I can see about finding out if you need to."

"No, that's okay," Sam said. "As long as you think Naomi has it handled. I mean, I was just thinking…I don't know what, but if there _was_ something we could do to help their situation, I would be willing to try it."

Dean snorted. "And literally do the thing Kipling accused us of?"

Sam shot him a look, but Castiel stepped in before they started to argue on what he felt was his behalf. "Despite my personal grievances I will admit that Naomi is a…capable leader. She will do what she feels is right for Heaven despite her personal opinions." Her personal opinions being mostly about Castiel and the Winchesters and their relationship, which he was certain she would disapprove of all the more considering their current situation. Castiel was actually glad the angels had had their own problems to worry about since Sam and Dean had taken over Hell. He didn't really want to know for sure how the other angels felt about his spending time with the rulers of Hell—he could already imagine Naomi's reaction well enough. "I think it's probably best to leave Heaven as it is."

Sam nodded. "You're probably right."

"Don't exactly want to incur wrath where it wasn't before," Dean said wryly.

"Believe me, if there were something that would be able to help Heaven down there, I would have suggested it by now." Castiel told them. Honestly, he would like to consider a day where he was allied with Heaven again, if not actually up there. If there was a possibility he could come to act as a liaison between the Winchesters and Naomi and they could help each other, then he might actually be willing to deal with his old enemy. It _was_ a different world they lived in now, after all. The apocalypse was long past, and it was probably time to put the differences between Heaven and Hell in the past too. The Winchesters may just be the ones to do that—they had certainly pulled off more difficult things.

Castiel almost smiled wryly at the thought. Once upon a time, he may have fought to prove there was in fact a difference between the two, but now, after all he had been through, he had learned that there really was no difference between Heaven and Hell. It was all just good—or bad—PR.

Dean shucked his coat off and headed to his rooms. "Well, I'm gonna shower the Hell off of me. Then I think I'll go on a supply run—we're almost out of milk and coffee. Maybe grab something to barbecue tonight."

"Sounds good," Sam said.

Castiel watched Dean go then turned back to Sam as the younger Winchester cleared his throat.

"Cas, I was wondering if you would maybe look over our terms for the crossroads deals again with me, see if there's anything we can improve that might ease the tension a little."

Castiel smiled. "Of course, Sam."

They moved to the library where Sam brought out their scroll that dictated all the rules he and Dean had set when they took over Hell, picking it apart as Sam jotted notes down.

"Really, I think it's more the fact that the demons are reluctant to give up any souls they work to make contracts with," Castiel said after a while. "Perhaps you could come up with something that would make life easier for them in another department instead to make up for the inconvenience?"

Sam sighed, rubbing his head. "Yeah, maybe. All of this just gives me a headache."

Castiel nodded sympathetically. "I can understand. My small stint as a ruler taught me just how hard it actually was. I must say that despite its flaws, there is something much easier about being a simple soldier."

Sam nodded and tapped his pen against the notepad. "I hear you. Sometimes I wonder that the hell Crowley was thinking making me ruler." He snorted wryly. "Sometimes I think it was all just him having a last laugh."

Castiel frowned. "That's the farthest from the truth, Sam. Despite what you think, you are a great leader. Your brother and I believe that and so did Crowley. And, despite how annoying he could be on occasion, I found him to be, surprisingly, a shrewd judge of character. He did not pass this torch lightly and he would not have given it to just anyone. Which is why he chose you and Dean."

Sam smiled. "Well, hopefully someday I'll be able to agree with you on that. In the meantime, I guess we'll just have to figure out how to make a deal the demons can't refuse."

Castiel smiled slightly. "Careful. You're sounding a little like Crowley."

Sam smirked back and went back to jotting down ideas, talking them out with Castiel.

Despite his undying faith in the Winchesters, the angel really hoped this wasn't going to be one of the times things came back to bite them.

_~~~~~~~_

_The next day_ Dean actually got to sleep in. He stumbled out of bed and stood in the kitchen watching the coffee burble into the pot. Sam wasn't up yet and Dean didn't blame him, glad his little brother was getting some rest. They'd been in Hell for a long time the day before, working out things with Wheatly and Sam and Cas had been at it even longer trying to think of new ways to appease demons. Frankly Dean didn't give a damn as long as they stayed in line, but he admired Sam's devotion. He just preferred to be there as the backup.

Sam stumbled into the kitchen just in time for the coffee to finish, stifling a yawn and reached for a cup. Dean kindly pulled the carafe out and poured him some.

"Ugh, why didn't this contract keep us from needing sleep?" Sam griped.

Dean snorted. "That would be nice. At least it didn't mess with our metabolism either though. Caffeine still works and we can still get drunk." He clinked his coffee cup against Sam's as his younger brother rolled his eyes.

"Let's save the getting drunk until after this all settles down."

"Can't disagree with that," Dean said. "Things look like they're really heating up in Hell—no pun intended."

Sam rolled his eyes again at about the thousandth time Dean had made that joke, and sat down at the table, grabbing the box of corn flakes and milk Dean had set out. "I'm hoping that once this is all figured out we'll have less trouble. But then…well, at worse, I guess we'll find out who's actually loyal, so there's that."

Dean nodded in agreement. A little rebellion could be good for something, he supposed. After the meeting with the demons the day before he didn't think that they would have that much trouble from the heads of the different departments who didn't really care about crossroads deals one way or another so they were probably safe. Kipling and his crossroads demon union, however…. Dean still planned to keep his eye on him and Sykes for a while. There was just something about both of them, especially together, that Dean didn't like.

They sat down to breakfast and about halfway through, Cas came in to join them, getting his own cup of coffee, and they started to discuss other issues that had come up at the meeting and what their best options might be for them.

It was around noon when there was a knock on the door and Dean frowned, going to answer it, and finding Wheatly standing there, looking a little harried.

"What's up now? We just left Hell yesterday?"

"Wheatly?" Sam asked as he and Cas followed Dean into the war room.

"My lord, I apologize for interrupting, but we have a problem," Wheatly said, standing to attention.

Sam frowned. "What's wrong?"

"Hell is apparently rioting," Wheatly said in a very put-upon manner. "It would probably be best if you were there…"

The three were already moving. Dean went to grab his jacket and katana, snatching his car keys off of the table.

"Guess we're going back downstairs," he muttered. "This week just keeps getting better and better."

They hurried to the garage and Dean gunned the Impala out, wondering what _fresh_ hell they would find when they got back to their falling kingdom.


	4. Chapter Three

Hell was a disaster. The instant they got through the door, the shouting was heard, picking up pace as soon as Sam and his companions came into view. He stopped in shock and Dean and Cas instantly pushed forward, weapons drawn, forming a shield in front of him and shoving through the mass of gathered demons, using their weapons when needed.

"Get the hell back!" Dean snarled, his eyes going black as he brandished his katana. Cas was glowing, and Sam could see his wings rising in a defensive posture, causing more demons to shrink back. Sam felt for his own powers, but wouldn't use them unless they were all in danger. Using his powers would cite a panic and that was the last thing he wanted to do. He would handle this with nothing more than a show of arms if he could help it. At least until he could find the actual culprit.

"There he is! The Boy King!"

Sam sighed. And there was the culprit sure enough.

Dean and Cas had forged a path to the throne room and there, standing on the dais, was Sykes. It seemed Dean had been right to suspect him after all. The demon was holding an angel blade in his hand and raising it above his head to incite the crowd. The demons who were standing around him howled and jeered at the appearance of the Winchesters.

Wheatly shoved forward, and if a demon could ever be described as showing righteous fury, he definitely was in that moment. "You maggot! You dare stand on the throne!"

A demon elbowed the steward in the face and Wheatly staggered back before reaching for his own weapon.

Sam however, stepped forward, pulling the steward back and raising his hand, allowing his eyes to go black. "Enough!"

His shout echoed through the chamber and thankfully all the demons stopped shouting. More were appearing around the room, some obviously opposing Sykes and his men, others just looking like they were there to watch a show—Sam noticed that Kipling was among those, standing off to one side with a small group of seemingly just spectators, arms crossed, and a small eager smile on his face as if simply interested in seeing how this would all turn out.

"Sykes, you got a problem you need to discuss?" Sam demanded, glowering at the demon, standing his ground.

Sykes smirked and bowed mockingly. "I apologize, your majesty. Did I damage your delicate sensibilities?"

Sam smiled. "Funny. Get down here and let's talk."

Sykes hesitated too long. He sneered again, about to say something else when Sam simply raised his hand and flicked his wrist. Sykes' eyes blew wide as he was flung backwards and pinned to the wall. Sam strode toward him as Dean and Cas formed a barrier at his back, fending off the other demons.

"I said let's talk," Sam repeated. "Alone."

Sykes gulped and gave a small nod. Sam glanced over his shoulder. "Dean."

Dean strode forward, grabbing Sykes by his collar, and yanking him along. "Come on, douchebag."

They made their way through an ante-chamber off the throne room to another chamber behind Sam and Wheatly's offices. They dragged Sykes inside and Cas pulled a chair over, which Dean promptly dumped the demon into.

Sam casually leaned against his desk, folding his arms over his chest as he met the demon's eyes. "What's going on, Sykes? You have a problem?"

The demon hissed, leaning forward before Dean grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back forcefully. "Yeah, I got a problem. I got a problem with Azazel's upstart Boy King wanting to make friends with angels!" He snarled at Cas as he said this and the angel rolled his eyes.

"Hm," Sam said. "I'm sorry you feel that way, but as I'm sure you're aware, we've always been friends with at least a couple angels. Why all the hostility now?"

Sykes sneered. "Don't pretend you don't know. You're the one who's betraying the kingdom that you stole."

Sam frowned and Dean stepped forward, brandishing his katana so that it touched the underside of Sykes' chin. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" he demanded.

Sykes continued to glower at him but didn't say anything. Dean pressed his chin upward with the blade. "Come on, chatty Kathy. Spill before I spill something for you."

"Kipling said that you had cut a deal with the angels for more souls, which is why you don't sign off on all the crossroads deals," Sykes said, shifting uncomfortably. Sam frowned slightly as he watched him, unsure whether his reaction was to Dean's threats, or something else.

Sam gave a wry huff of laughter. "Really? He said the same thing to me. That doesn't make it true. Kipling just wants to cause trouble, and you were stupid enough to get caught up in it and drag others along as well, which just causes problems for all of us." He turned around dismissively and began straightening things on his desk. "I think you need some time to cool off, Sykes. We'll see if you have a different opinion after a month in the dungeon."

Sykes growled as Dean and Cas hauled him to his feet. "You think you're going to stop anything by putting me away?" he demanded, suddenly talking again. "This isn't just about the souls, it's about _you! _And there's more who think the same way as me. A lot more! Your days on the throne are numbered, Winchester!"

"Enough," Cas growled, shoving the demon hard in the back.

Sam watched them go, tapping a pen against his desk. Wheatly stood by the door as if putting himself between the demons and his king.

"Wheatly, how many malcontents do you reckon?" he asked after a moment of silence.

Wheatly gave a small huff. "Enough to cause a problem, but not so many as to be a risk to _you_, my lord."

"Think there's any chance of getting them to see reason?" Sam asked.

The steward gave a very small smile. "My lord, with respect, I didn't think you would last a week here without someone sticking a knife between your ribs. You and your brother always exceeded Crowley's expectations and you have certainly exceeded mine as well. I think they will come around with a little persuasion. However, some of the malcontents will need to be dealt with to teach that lesson."

Sam nodded grimly. He didn't like the whole public execution thing, but he'd done it when he first came to Hell and he would do it again if he had to. Honestly, he'd only put Sykes in the dungeon for now because he didn't think he was the real head of the operation. The way he had reacted, said less than he could have, made Sam think there was something bigger going on. Something he had missed, and he needed to figure it out before he _did_ end up getting a dagger between his ribs.

Dean and Cas reappeared, looking a little tense.

"Is it still a mess out there?" Sam asked.

"They're floundering a little without their pep rally leader," Dean said. "But they look like they could regroup if they want to."

Sam sighed, rubbing his forehead. He was getting a headache. He was honestly just looking for something to go right today.

"Perhaps you should all retire to your rooms," Wheatly suggested. "It's more secure than this if there is trouble."

Dean nodded. "Good idea. Come on, Sammy."

They made their way to their suite through a back passage from the offices and Cas made sure the door was locked and secure.

Juliet let out a growling bark as she bounded over to Sam, looking eagerly toward the door as if ready to put the malcontents in their place herself.

"Not right now, girl, maybe later," Sam said. If things got really hairy, he knew he had another faithful guard to watch his back.

"What do we do now?" Dean asked. "I'm not barricading myself in here forever."

"Of course not," Sam replied. "I just need to think. Give the rioters time to cool off before we try speaking with them again. They don't have Sykes calling the shots so I think it's safe to assume that we have a window before they'll try to regroup."

"If it was Sykes calling the shots in the first place," Dean said grimly.

Sam nodded. "Yeah, I know." He didn't know what was going on yet, but he was determined to find out. After all, he had a kingdom and a promise to uphold. And he didn't want to think of the chaos that would ensue if he let it go now.

_~~~~~~~_

_Kipling made his way_ down the lines of cells until he came to the one that held Sykes. The demon stood up instantly and came to the bars as he saw Kipling.

"I did exactly what you said," Sykes told the other demon eagerly. "We have a lot of demons behind us now, and more that we can easily sway."

Kipling smiled and jangled the keys he had bartered with the guard for. "You did…and quite wonderfully too, I might add."

The demon beamed and waited eagerly for Kipling to unlock the cell. Kipling opened the door but stood in front of it, blocking the exit. Sykes cocked his head to one side. "What now? Do we make our move against the Winchesters?"

"No…_we_ don't," Kipling said and whipped up his other hand, driving a dagger right into Sykes' heart. The demon gasped, eyes widening as he stared in betrayal at his comrade. Kipling grinned as he twisted the blade. "You have another part to play, my friend."

Sykes slid off his blade and collapsed to the ground. Kipling locked the door again and walked past the cellblock, returning the keys to the keeper without a word.

He found a quiet room with no one around, and pulled his phone from his pocket.

"Darling, hi, it's me, Kipling, again. Have you thought more about my offer…?"

He heard the voice on the other end on the verge of hanging up and rushed to explain. "Please, you'll want to hear me out—trust me. Due to some information I recently uncovered, I have a new proposition for you, a way to stop the Winchesters in a nefarious plot I've stumbled across at great risk to myself…what's in it for me? Why, darling, everything!"

He explained the plan, expertly wheedling a deal before he hung up, slipping away as he heard the commotion starting up again—Sykes must have been found dead already. He grinned, whistling happily to himself. His plan was falling into place beautifully. Soon, the Winchesters would be sorry they had even taken Crowley's deal, and Kipling would make sure they knew it was him that had caused their fall. But for now, it was time he made his exit to set up that fall.

_~~~~~~~_

_Another uproar arose_ and Dean and the others all looked up from their conversation. The hellhound growled and stood from her place at Sam's side.

"What's wrong now?" Cas groaned.

Wheatly strode to the door with a longsuffering manner. "Allow me to go and see what is happening."

He slipped out, leaving the Winchesters and Cas hanging. Dean got up and started pacing, itching to go out there and settle things the easy way—if not the bloody way. At least try his hand at getting info out of Sykes again.

It was nearly an hour before Wheatly came back into the room. Dean was about to chew him out for taking so long when he noticed the Steward looking more flustered than usual. Dean frowned. "What is it?"

The steward shook his head. "It seems Sykes is dead."

Sam and Cas both stood up now too, shocked.

"What? We put him in the cell an hour ago," Sam said incredulously.

Wheatly raised his hands in a helpless gesture. "I failed to get any relevant information aside from that, though I made plenty of inquiries. The jailor on duty seems to have left his post, but I can make more try another line of investigation if you wish…"

"No, I'll do it," Dean said. "Cas, you come with me."

"I'm coming too," Sam said.

Dean turned quickly, holding up his hand. "I think it's better that you stay here."

Sam postured indignantly. "I'm the king, Dean, I'm not just going to hide in here!"

"And I'm the Knight, it's my job to keep you safe—contractually, _and_ as your big brother," Dean reminded him. "Sammy, there are demons that want your blood, you'll just make the situation worse if they see you out there and we won't get anything out of them then."

Sam clenched his jaw. Dean knew he didn't like it, knew exactly how much his brother hated feeling helpless, but Sam also knew why he needed to keep low for now.

"Fine, just…be careful."

Dean nodded, clapping his brother on the shoulder and following Cas out the door, both of them with blades drawn.

Hell was a mess. Demons were everywhere crowding the halls, murmuring, spreading rumors that probably weren't true. Dean wanted to yell at them to go back to their jobs but knew just how little good that would do until this was settled.

When he and Cas finally got to the prison, there was a crowd of demons gathered. Between their talking and the shouting of the other prisoners it was a droning cacophony that made Dean's teeth grit.

"Out of the way!" he bellowed, raising his katana as he and Cas forcibly shoved their way through the crowd until they reached the smaller circle of guards who were in the cell, standing over the body of Sykes.

"What the hell happened?" Dean demanded.

The prison guard looked up, groveling slightly when he saw Dean. "Um, sir, it appears that the prisoner has been murdered…"

"Yeah, I can see that," Dean said blandly, looking down at the ring of keys looped through the demon's belt. "Weren't you supposed to be guarding him?"

"Well, no, Nigel was. I—I was the next on rotation, s-sir," the demon was trembling, eyes fixed on the gleaming blade Dean was holding casually at his side. "But when I got here Nigel was gone and when I went to check the cells looking for him…"

"You found this?" Cas asked, sharing a look with Dean.

"Yes, he-he was just dead," the guard finished lamely.

"Did you see anyone else hanging around the cells?" Dean asked.

The demon shook his head.

There were murmurs, some shaking heads. Dean growled, brandishing his blade.

"You got anything to say, then say it!" he demanded of the gathered crowd.

One demon stepped forward boldly, glowering at Dean. "Only that maybe you and the King didn't want what he had to say to get spread any further," she said, folding her arms over her chest. There were mutters of agreement from the other demons.

Dean rolled his eyes. "You think he didn't already shout everything he knew to you guys? There's nothing to tell! Everyone get back to work! That's an order!"

The demons peeled away slowly, making Dean growl. He sheathed his blade and turned back to Cas who was crouched next to the body.

"You buying any of that?" he asked the angel.

"Not really," Cas said, standing back up. "There's something else going on."

"That's what I thought." Dean looked around for any other clue, but there was none. He thought wryly about installing some security cameras in this place. "You think it's strange that Kipling wasn't hanging around?"

Cas furrowed his brow, glancing around the cell again. "It is a bit odd considering he's been at the heart of all these issues so far."

Dean made a low sound of contemplation. "I think we may have solved our little murder. Let's get back to Sam and—Cas?"

He turned back around to see the angel standing there with his fingers pressed against his temple, eyes closed. Dean frowned, about to ask if his friend was all right, when Cas opened his eyes, a troubled look on his face.

"What was that, angel radio?" Dean asked warily.

Cas nodded. "Naomi. She says she wants to…discuss something with us. Of course, it had to be at the most inopportune time…"

"Son of a bitch," Dean muttered, running a hand through his hair. "What the hell could she want?"

"I have no idea, but she said it was important."

Dean bit his lip. "It's weird, isn't it? The demons make a fuss about us working with Heaven and then out of the blue, Naomi contacts you even though she hasn't bothered for a year?"

"The coincidence does not escape me," Cas said darkly. "Which is why I think I should take her up on the offer. Let me go and talk to her."

"No way," Dean said instantly.

"Dean this may be more important than we realize."

"It's _Naomi_, man."

Cas glowered at him but there was determination in his eyes. "Trust me, I wouldn't choose this if I didn't think it might lead to something, but…" He shook his head. "I don't know, the timing…it's just too coincidental. I need to do this."

Dean hesitated. "Are you sure, Cas? Maybe I should go with you. This is ninety-nine percent likely to turn out to be a trap."

"I'm aware of the dangers and I appreciate the concern, but your place is with Sam, you need to watch his back. He needs you here as crowd control. I'll be fine."

Dean but his lip, not wanting to remind Cas of all the times he'd gone off to meet with angels and been anything but fine. He still wasn't over the whole fiasco with Ishim and he knew Cas wasn't either. But he also saw his point. It was way too coincidental to not be suspect. "Okay, but, man, if it smells fishy, just…"

"I know, Dean," Cas said in a longsuffering manner.

"And call when you're done," Dean said. "Be careful, man."

"You too," Cas said firmly and hurried away.

Dean let out a frustrated sigh and headed back to the suite. Why was everything all of a sudden falling down? He felt that he really needed to find Kipling and fast.

When he got back he found Sam and Wheatly discussing something with several other demons who Dean knew worked directly under the steward. Sam looked up with a frown.

"Where's Cas?"

"We have a problem," Dean said. "Naomi called wanting to talk."

Sam looked shocked. "What?"

"I don't know, man, but with everything else that's going on…"

"Yeah, exactly, we don't have time to deal with her," Sam cut in.

"Don't worry, Cas is taking care of it," Dean told him calmly, trying to ease his own worry over the angel meeting with his tormentor alone.

"You let him go alone?" Sam demanded.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Cas is a big boy, Sam, and trust me, I hate it too, but you think I'm gonna leave you alone with this mess? Cas practically ordered me to stay."

Sam's jaw ticked, and he ran a hand agitatedly through his hair. Dean pursed his lips. "That's not all. We think Kipling's the one who killed Sykes and it seems even more likely considering he's apparently flown the coop, or at least no one seems to know where he is at the moment."

"Kipling," Sam spat like a curse, slamming his fist down on the table. He turned to Wheatly. "Can you organize your men to find him? We need to get to the bottom of this now."

Wheatly nodded. "Of course, my lord." He turned to one of the other demons and snapped his fingers to pass on the order. The demon promptly nodded and headed off. "Anything else?"

"We can't do anything else right now," Sam said wearily, slumping into a chair and pressing his knuckles against his mouth. "I'm afraid Kipling is behind all of this and I need to find out the whole story before we make our next move."

Dean cursed under his breath, pacing over to the side bar and pouring himself a glass of whisky—the good stuff here, always. Another thing Crowley had made sure of.

It wasn't even an hour before Wheatly's man came back.

"Well?" Dean demanded.

The demon shook his head. "My lord, I'm afraid Kipling is no longer in Hell, at least nowhere we've looked."

"Then look again," Dean growled before the room phone extension in the suite rang.

Wheatly promptly walked over and answered it on habit, his eyes widening slightly as he turned to the Winchesters who had both turned to him, on their feet.

"What?" Sam demanded.

"It's Kipling," Wheatly said. "He's asking for you."

"Put it on speaker," Sam said.

Wheatly did as he was told and Sam and Dean joined him, gathering around the phone.

"Kipling," Sam said shortly.

"Hey there, your majesty," Kipling's voice came through the line.

"Where the hell are you?" Dean demanded. "You have some explaining to do about Sykes."

"Oh that? Just a distraction really," Kipling said and Dean could imagine his punchable face preening on the other end. "But I have something much more important to discuss with you. I'd like to meet in person, but not in Hell."

"Yeah?" Sam said. "And why should we?"

"Because," Kipling said and Dean could just hear the satisfied smirk in his voice. "I've got your angel."


	5. Chapter Four

Castiel made his way to the arranged meeting spot which was—an abandoned warehouse.

He sighed heavily as he parked his truck and got out. He rested a hand against the familiar weight of his angel blade inside his coat, warily looking about at his surroundings. He couldn't imagine Naomi meeting in a place like this unless she had something up her sleeve. He began to regret his choice in coming alone. Perhaps he should have waited until the riots had calmed down enough so that at least one of the Winchesters could have accompanied him after all.

Not that he wanted them to get caught up with Naomi if she had a dastardly plan, but they weren't the fragile humans they used to be anymore either. But it wasn't like Castiel couldn't handle himself. Maybe he had jumped to conclusions and Naomi's call had been totally unrelated to anything going on.

However, as Dean liked to say: when was there ever more than one thing in the same town? He thought the same sentiment could apply to this situation.

He steeled himself and stepped forward. There was also the possibility that this was going to be completely fine and he was just paranoid and overreacting. But every time he thought that, he remembered how Naomi had strapped him down and drilled into his head. How she had never even apologized for her actions when he had confronted her after finding she was still alive. She was no friend to Castiel or the Winchesters. Never had been, and never would be. He couldn't help but suspect her of some kind of foul play, though couldn't fathom her reason behind it, unless something else was going on that he had failed to see.

He cautiously opened the door to the warehouse and looked around. He frowned when he didn't see anyone waiting.

"Naomi?" he called, wondering for a second whether he had gotten the wrong place.

But then a footstep sounded and Naomi appeared, along with the angel Duma.

"Hello, Castiel. I wasn't expecting you to come alone," Naomi said.

"I'm here on behalf of the Winchesters," Castiel told her. "They were…otherwise occupied."

Naomi smirked. "Yes. I can imagine ruling Hell is quite the job."

Castiel bit back a retort at her jibe. "I'm here. You wanted to talk so let's talk."

"We will," Naomi said. "But first…"

Three more angels appeared out of the shadows, and encroached upon Castiel. He looked around, cursing inwardly that his suspicions seemed to have been correct after all.

"Naomi, what is this?" he demanded.

"I'm sorry, Castiel, but you are only a playing piece in this game that goes far beyond you. I'm sure you understand."

He'd been steered away from the door at his back, and the angels advanced on him, effectively hemming him in, and Castiel finally allowed his blade to drop into his hand, falling into a fighting crouch, shaking his head. "Brothers, sisters, I don't want to hurt you. But I will."

"I don't think that will be a problem," Naomi said and looked up.

More figures dropped from a catwalk and Castiel was surprised to see _demons_ join the angels in surrounding him. He recognized several of them as ones that had been in the thick of the riots.

"Uh-oh, looks like the little birdy is without his masters," one of the demons said with a mocking pout. "Maybe we should clip his wings!"

All of them, angels and demons alike, rushed toward Castiel and attacked. He swung his blade, fighting desperately for a few minutes and getting several hits in before he was overwhelmed by sheer numbers. His attackers bore him to the ground and kicked him into submission, pummeling his back and stomach and head. Castiel saw stars after several heavy kicks and he lost his blade somewhere in the meantime, watching it helplessly skid away from him. All he could do now was curl up and wait for them to finish.

Once they seemed to think he'd had enough, he was dragged upright, and hauled over to a spot on one side of the building that had obviously been set up for this. Manacles were snapped around his wrists and his arms raised above his head, the cuffs forced over a hook that kept him hanging, suspended with only his toes scraping the ground. He glanced down, seeing he'd been put into a circle with Enochian sigils, like a devil's trap, but for angels. There would be no escaping, even if his grace wasn't locked down by the Enochian handcuffs.

"That's all for now, return to Heaven," Naomi said, dismissing all the angels but Duma who stayed by her side, glowering at their captive.

"What is this, Naomi?" Castiel ground out, spitting a gob of blood onto the floor. "Why are you working with demons?"

"What's the matter, Castiel?" Duma asked mockingly. "I thought you were all for whoring yourself out to demons and humans and everything in between."

Castiel glowered at her, refusing to rise to the bait.

"I have always done what I must for heaven," Naomi said with that put-upon attitude that had always irked Castiel. As if _she_ were the victim instead of the angels she kept pressed heavily under her heel. "The Winchesters simply overstepped their bounds unforgivably this time. It's one thing when they were human and causing problems, but with the power their contract gave them… I can't allow them to continue this way. I'm sure you understand."

"They have been trying to make Hell better," Castiel told her.

Naomi let out a humorless laugh. "I believe Hell will be better off without their meddling hands in it. They have caused far too much damage in the past to be trusted with such an important task. Frankly, I'm shocked that even Crowley would have risked something like that. He had more gall than I gave him credit for. Hell is best left to function the way it was meant to. The way it always has."

Castiel shook his head. "So everything they've done means nothing to you? They've even put parameters on crossroads deals, lessened the corruption of souls! You can't say that's a bad thing!"

Naomi gave him a wry smile and shook her head. "Don't play stupid, Castiel. I'm sure you know that that's the real problem here."

Castiel frowned, not sure what she was getting at, and yanked at his chains but only managed to make himself swing, which sent a wave of agony through his battered body. "Then who would you have rule?"

The click of expensive shoes sounded through the shadows, and an all-too-familiar figure in a garish suit emerged, hands held out to his sides in greeting, a grin on his face.

"Castiel, darling."

"Kipling," Castiel growled, tugging at his chains again. He shot a look at Naomi, eyebrows raised. "You're seriously telling me you cut a deal with this…scum?"

"Nothing so binding," Naomi said with a sniff as if the idea of making any business deal with a demon left a bad taste in her mouth. "We have an…understanding."

Kipling smirked, stepping up to Castiel and propping his hands on his hips. "That's right. Naomi understands my potential. And has the ability to look the other way and mind her own business. Just like me. We only want Heaven and Hell to move on to another era. Where neither of us care what the other does."

"You want to rule Hell," Castiel said in understanding.

Kipling pursed his lips. "Mm, for starters anyway."

Castiel struggled against his bonds again, glowering. "You'll never get past Sam. He and Dean will stop you."

Kipling laughed. "You think so? Why do you think I took you as bait? You think that soft-hearted, weakling Sam Winchester would do anything to stop me if I meant you harm? Hell, _Crowley_ probably wouldn't have with how soft and sentimental he'd gotten by the end. That's why Hell needs a real leader again. Someone who can make it powerful. Someone like me."

Castiel met his eyes firmly. "That's where you're wrong. Sam and Dean have done more in the last year than Crowley did in five. Even you have to admit that Hell's running better under their control."

Kipling snorted. "Objectionable, but I don't have time to get into the details here."

"And you're mistaken on another matter too. Sam Winchester is no weakling. They will do their duty, no matter what you do to me, and if nothing else is certain, believe me when I say that they will kill you." Castiel put all the determination he could into his voice and hoped Kipling wasn't going to contact the Winchesters because the instant he did Castiel knew those idiots would be here as soon as possible.

Kipling smirked, raising an eyebrow. "Hm, is that so?" He turned to one of his demons who handed him an angel blade. He tapped it thoughtfully against his chin, looking Castiel up and down before reaching into his pocket. "I think we should test the theory, don't you? Why don't we give the Winchesters a call?"

Castiel's heart sank, knowing the game was up.

"Who do you think will be the first in that door, Cas?" Kipling said with a grin as he dialed the number. "It's a toss-up, but my bet is on Dean. After all, aren't you and he joined at the…everything?" He made a suggestive sweep of his eyes down Cas' body and the angel rolled his eyes with an exasperated growl. He really wanted to stab this demon through the neck.

"We've set a trap for him too," Kipling told him. "Something he and Sam probably don't realize is that they can be caught just like us with the right runes now." He nodded over toward the side of the room where the door was. Another sigil was painted on the floor just inside the threshold. Castiel gritted his teeth. He wasn't sure if the sigil would hold Dean but…it was certainly possible.

"Now." Kipling stepped forward into the circle Castiel was trapped in and pressed the angel blade up against his throat as he sent the call through, pressing the phone to his ear. "Let's see what the Winchesters will do to get their precious angel back."

_~~~~~~~_

_Dean felt a wash of rage_ and terror surge through him at Kipling's words.

"I've got your angel," the mocking voice said over the phone. "If you want to see him again I'm going to have a few conditions."

"What the hell do you want, you son of a bitch?" Dean demanded.

Kipling chuckled. "We'll get to that. In the meantime, you may want to get over here. Having an angel at my mercy is just _too_ tempting."

"Proof of life," Sam snapped suddenly. "Let us talk to Cas."

Kipling chuckled on the other end before there was a familiar pained cry. "Good enough?" Kipling asked.

Dean's eyes flicked black on principle and he grabbed for his katana, despite the fact the smarmy demon wasn't even in the room.

"You bastard, I will find you and cut off your head," Dean growled.

Kipling chuckled again. "I would expect nothing less from the Knight of Hell. I look forward to seeing you boys again. I'll text the address." Then he hung up.

Dean slammed the phone back into its cradle, and glanced at his brother. "What the hell is going on here?"

Sam shook his head. "I don't know, but we need to get Cas back before anything else."

"My lord, you can't leave now," Wheatly cut in. "If you run, your subjects will never respect you."

Sam's jaw tightened, but he nodded. "You're right." He turned to Dean. "I'll stay here and put an end to this. You go get Cas back."

"I don't like the idea of leaving you here alone," Dean said, hating the feeling of being torn in two with the overwhelming desire to protect both of his brothers.

"He won't be alone, Master Winchester," Wheatly said firmly, stepping forward. "He will have my support as well as that of all his loyal subjects here."

Dean cocked an eyebrow. "What's a butler supposed to do?"

Wheatly gave a small enigmatic smile. "I was not always Hell's Steward."

Dean studied him for a moment, surprised, then nodded sharply, and went over to a panel on one wall and slid it back, revealing a weapons cache. He grabbed a gun and several knives just in case, then turned back to Sam, reaching out and gripping his shoulder.

"You be safe, okay?" he nearly pleaded.

Sam reached up and gripped his arm tight. "You too. Bring Cas back."

Dean nodded. Then he turned to the hellhound who was still sitting loyally by Sam's side. He put on a stern face and pointed at her. "You watch his back, you hear me?" he demanded.

Juliet let out a low rumble and barked, which Dean chose to take as assent. He turned back to Wheatly. "That goes for you too."

"Hey, Dean," Sam called. "If you find Kipling before me, do me a favor and cut off his frickin' head."

Dean grinned and gave a mocking bow. "It would be a pleasure, your highness."

Sam rolled his eyes and Dean hurried from the room. Kipling had just made his last mistake.

_~~~~~~~~_

_Castiel glowered at Kipling_ as the call ended, and the demon tucked the phone back into his pocket. "Just as I suspected. Running to the rescue of the damsel in distress."

"It will be your fault for underestimating them," Castiel told him.

Kipling just chuckled and twirled the angel blade he held around with a flourish. "We'll see."

Naomi stepped impatiently forward. "Alright, demon, I held up my end of the bargain. I've baited the trap. Now you need to give me the information you've gathered."

Kipling sighed. "Right to business I suppose; angels, always so impatient." He snapped his fingers and one of the demons came over with a thick file folder, which he handed to Kipling.

Castiel frowned as the demon handed it over to Naomi.

"This?" Naomi asked, her eyes widening. "There's so many!"

"They're building an army, they need as many as they can get," Kipling told her.

"I'm sorry, what?" Castiel demanded. "What is that? What are you talking about?"

Kipling turned on him. "Oh, don't pretend you don't know, Castiel. You're in on this just as much as the Winchesters."

Castiel stared at him incredulously. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Kipling."

"So you have no idea why the Winchesters are taking in souls from crossroads deals but sending them to heaven instead?" Naomi asked him, raising an eyebrow. "Castiel, I find that hard to believe."

"What are you talking about?" Castiel demanded again.

Naomi stepped toward him and opened the folder, showing Castiel one of the forms that Sam had made for the demons to fill out when they made a crossroads deal. "This, Castiel. Kipling told me an interesting story about how the Winchesters refuse to sign off on all the crossroads deals, claiming they're innocent victims, but in reality, they're just sending them to Heaven to be a sleeper army. I'm sure you knew of their aspirations in taking over Heaven, Castiel; after all, you are the most likely candidate for them to put in charge there. I wouldn't be surprised if you were the one who came up with the idea to begin with."

Castiel looked at the papers in front of him, seeing the usual form, but instead of a simple 'rejected' that Sam and Dean usually put there, there was instead a 'reroute' in the box.

"This is all a lie," Castiel told Naomi. "Kipling is manipulating you. Those forms have been tampered with. The souls the Winchesters don't sign off on simply live out their lives. The contracts of the deals are ripped up and the individual goes on none-the-wiser. Whether they end up in Hell or Heaven when they eventually die depends on how they lived the rest of their lives."

"Making excuses, just like your masters," Kipling said, shaking his head. Castiel glowered at him and tried to appeal to Naomi.

"You can't seriously think he's telling the truth," he growled. "We may have our differences in opinion, Naomi, but I've never taken you for an idiot."

"Silence," she told him firmly. "What reason have I ever had to trust _you_, Castiel? Never once have you chosen Heaven over the Winchesters, and it has been your downfall. They have corrupted you beyond repair. But don't worry. When we have exterminated the Winchesters, I will take you back to Heaven and make you into a loyal soldier again."

Castiel's stomach gave a flip at the thought. "Why don't you just kill me?" he demanded.

Naomi gave him that small, falsely caring smile that he had always hated. "I would, trust me, but there are so few of us now, I cannot afford to waste any angels we have left. So I'll make myself content with simply killing who you are. Wiping every memory of the Winchesters and your life on earth from your brain and starting over."

"Try it," Castiel growled, tugging at his chains.

Kipling chuckled. "This is very entertaining, but the clock is ticking and Dean Winchester drives fast." He turned back to his demons and snapped his fingers. "Circle the area. Make sure Dean goes through the right door." The demons saluted and headed out of the warehouse. Kipling turned to Castiel. "You on the other hand, I can't have you warning your boyfriend." He stepped forward and punched Castiel in the stomach, before shoving a gag in his mouth.

Castiel struggled and nearly bit Kipling's hand before the demon shoved the angel blade against his throat. "Shh…it will be over before long. And I'll make sure you have front row seats when I cut off Dean's head."

Castiel growled past the gag, yanking even harder at his chains until Kipling suddenly slammed his angel blade through Castiel's shoulder.

The angel's eyes blew wide as he gave a muffled cry of pain. The demon grinned up at him before ripping the blade out. The pain made Castiel sag in his chains but that only made it worse. His feet scrabbled for purchase, forcing himself further onto his toes as Kipling chuckled and stepped away, wiping his blade off on a handkerchief.

"I've been wanting to do that for a long time," he said.

A demon came in and saluted. "Lord Kipling! Dean Winchester has been sighted."

"Excellent," Kipling turned to Naomi. "Not long now."

She looked nonplussed at being part of this with him, but pulled her own blade, making ready.

It wasn't long before Castiel heard the sounds of fighting, demons screaming in pain and fear.

He sagged in his chains, panting with agony past the gag. He knew that even if Dean killed all the demons, he would likely end up trapped. He just hoped that the brothers had a backup plan, otherwise they were all screwed, and likely the world along with them.

_~~~~~~~_

_Dean slammed on the brakes_ in front of the warehouse, skidding the Impala to a halt right next to Cas' truck. He got out of the car, and drew his katana, looking around. He could sense the demons, and he could also sense Cas—another perk to the deal. He and Sam could both detect supernatural creatures, particularly demons and angels. Speaking of, there was more angelic notes than just Cas' coming from the warehouse, which did not bode well.

But he could get a basic headcount on the demons and he grinned. It would be a challenge, but not impossible.

"Get ready, sweetheart," he muttered to his blade as he strode toward the back of the warehouse. "There will be blood tonight."

The first demons showed themselves and he stopped as more appeared, weapons held at the ready. Dean chuckled and stood there facing them nonchalantly, blade held casually at his side.

"Hey fellas, didn't know it was gonna be a party," Dean quipped. "So how about it? Wanna dance?"

He flicked his eyes to black and launched forward. The demons rushed to meet him and were instantly thrown back as Dean whipped his katana around in a shining arc before reversing his hold and stabbing backwards at a demon who was sneaking up on his back.

The demon choked on a cry, and sparked out, falling to the ground. Dean spun and took out two more with one blow. The rest of the demons fell back, wary. Dean laughed, raising a hand and motioning them forward tauntingly. "Come on! Don't be shy."

They rushed him all at once and Dean grinned, stabbing one demon, and breaking another's neck with one hand before he even pulled his blade free from the other. One demon leapt on his back, but Dean extricated himself, slamming the hilt of his blade into the demon's ribs and headbutting him. The demon reeled back and Dean felt a blade coming toward his back. He dodged, feeling it scrape across his ribs, tearing his jacket up.

"Dammit!" he snarled and swung, cutting that demon's head off in a spray of blood. "You ruined my coat!"

He kicked another demon who went sprawling, trying to scramble away as Dean advanced on him, raising his sword.

"Where's Castiel?" he demanded. "Where is he?"

Another demon rushed him with a yell and Dean simply whirled his blade around without looking, stabbing him with an easy thrust, before he turned to encompass all the demons in his inquiry.

"Where is Castiel?" he demanded again, brandishing the bloody blade.

There were three demons left and none of them looked like they wanted to try for the Knight of Hell together let alone solo. Dean spun his blade and blood flew off of it in a crimson arc, causing the demons to step back.

"Where is he?!"

Finally, one pointed to the door a few yards away that led into the warehouse. Dean smiled. "Thanks." He leapt forward and swung his sword in a swift arc, cutting off all three of the demons' heads in one swing. The heads and bodies thudded separately to the ground, sparking as Dean nodded in satisfaction then bent to wipe his blade on one of the corpses.

He straightened with a wince, peeling open the rip in his jacket and seeing a long cut underneath.

"Son of a bitch," he growled. He glanced toward the door and started toward it. He wasn't sure what was waiting on the inside, but he was pretty much expecting some kind of hostage situation. Obviously, Kipling had sent his goons to do the dirty work.

He kicked the door in unceremoniously and stepped inside.

Pain tore through him and he cried out and fell to his knees, finding himself unable to move.

There was a muffled cry and a low chuckle nearby and when the blinding light that had engulphed Dean faded, he was finally able to take in the situation.

He was caught in some sort of sigiled circle like a devil's trap. He tried to move, but he couldn't. He was trapped on his knees, palms pressed to the floor, his sword trapped under his right one. He glanced up, seeing Cas across the room, hanging from a pair of cuffs, eyes wide and fixed on Dean as he struggled in his chains, a gag in his mouth. Dean's eyes flicked black in fury as he saw the blood that covered his friend's body, especially around his shoulder.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean growled. "Cas, you okay?"

The angel gave him a longsuffering look. Yeah, of course he wasn't. Neither of them were.

"So good of you to join us." Dean looked up to see Kipling walking out of the shadows in the ugliest shade of suit Dean had ever seen.

"Kipling," he bit out with a false smile. "What is that, _periwinkle?"_

Kipling smirked, ignoring him. "How do you like my trap? Did you know you could be caught like that? I bet Crowley didn't mention that in his little fanboy diary."

"Oh god, by all means just keep talking, it makes me want to punch you in the face even more," Dean said with a broad smile.

Another figure appeared out of the shadows and Dean leveled his gaze at her, flicking his eyes black with a wicked smile. "Naomi. Makes sense, you two working together. You see the irony in that, right, Kipling? After what you falsely accused me and Sam of?"

Kipling shrugged. "The enemy of my enemy and all that," he said.

"So what? You collab, take over the throne?" Dean raised an eyebrow. "You really thought that was a good idea?"

"This isn't about that," Naomi cut in. "It's about what you and your brother were planning."

"What we're planning? Pray tell, sweetheart," Dean quipped.

Naomi bristled. "The corrupted souls that you're sending to Heaven! Making deals with them that if they act as your soldiers, they don't have to stay in Hell."

Dean stared between her and Kipling then glanced over at Cas who was shaking his head.

"They making any sense to you, Cas?" he demanded before turning back to the angel and demon duo. "Look, I don't know what the hell he told you, but Kipling is lying, Naomi. Sam and I rip up whatever contracts we don't approve. End of story. We're certainly not sending a secret army to Heaven to take over. Hell, we've got enough to occupy ourselves."

"Silence!" Naomi snarled, striding forward and drawing her blade, pointing it under his chin. "You were always so insolent. You should be ashamed of yourself for corrupting Castiel like you did."

Dean heard Cas groan in exasperation, and he glowered up at Naomi. "Corrupted him? He's my _friend_, he's like my brother. Sam and I didn't _corrupt_ him, we just taught him how to think for himself. Instead of erasing memories _you_ didn't want him to have."

Naomi's blade slashed across his face, and Dean stared up at her defiantly, blood dripping down his cheek. "Go ahead," he said. "It's not gonna help you. Sam is taking out all the rebels in Hell as we speak and if we're not back before he's done, he'll come here and take all of you out too. Considering I took out all the goons outside single-handedly in less than three minutes, you look a little outnumbered. So tell you what, Kipling. You like deals so much, I'll make you one. You let me and Cas go now, I'll give you a quick death here, no need to make a fuss. And Naomi, we can forget this ever happened and you can go back to Heaven and leave us alone for good. But if you want to act coy and try to play your hand, then I'll make sure you suffer before you die, Kipling. I'll use you as an example to make sure no more stupid little rebellions like this happen ever again. So what do ya say, buddy? What's it gonna be?"

Naomi simply stared at him, blade held at the ready, and Kipling folded his arms over his chest with a laugh.

"Okay, you know what?" he said and his face darkened. "I rode with Genghis Khan, I've done things you don't even have words for, Dean Winchester, so if you think you can scare me, you're not going to succeed at all."

"You wanna bet on that?" Dean told him dangerously. "You may have forgotten, but back in the day, I was Alastair's favorite apprentice. You think I can't make you suffer? I may have put that behind me a long time ago, but no one touches my family, bitch. And I'll make sure you learn that the hard way."

Kipling glowered at him, but Dean could see he was at least considering the possibilities. He cleared his throat and shook his head. "Not that it matters. You two aren't getting out of here." He turned to Naomi. "Naomi, love, while we have them here, why don't we get any and all information about their nefarious plot out of them? We'll have plenty of time. Sammy isn't coming."

"Keep telling yourself that," Dean said with confidence. "And remember there's a rack with your name on it in Hell and I'd be more than happy to pay you a visit."

"Don't make promises you can't keep, Dean. Now," Kipling said and strode back over to yank the gag from Cas' mouth. "The only question is, which one gets to talk and which one gets to scream?"


	6. Chapter Five

Sam glanced toward the door of the armory, hearing the sounds of the rioting demons growing louder. He knew demons didn't take much to get them riled but this was honestly ridiculous. He had been hoping to avoid a battle, but that appeared to be the only way this was going to be resolved. He clenched his jaw, and turned back around to his gathered demon army, Wheatly at their head, hefting a spear. Sam still wasn't entirely sure whether it was a good idea to take the Steward into battle but Wheatly had practically insisted.

Juliet growled low in her throat, eagerly butting against Sam's hip, and that settled it. "Alright," he said, then raised his voice. "I've been king here for a year now, and though I wasn't sure about it at first, I've come to understand the responsibilities of being a leader. I know I haven't always done the best thing, but I've actually come to like it, and, I never thought I'd say this, but I've come to respect a lot of you quite a bit, actually."

Wheatly actually smiled. Sam raised his angel blade. "So I'm not gonna let Kipling ruin this now and I hope you agree with me. Let's get out there and put the rebels in their place."

The demons cheered and Sam threw open the door before rushing out. Several demons were milling around the hallway and when they saw him and his army, they raised their weapons half-heartedly, as if trying to decide whether they should stand and fight or run. Juliet decided for them and simply leapt forward and tore their throats out.

"Come on!" Sam shouted and continued on. He knew most of the rebels were in the throne room, and there were two entrances. Sam turned and glanced back at the demon who acted as armorer.

"Winston, you take half the men and head to the other door. We'll take them on two sides in a pincer movement."

Winston nodded and waved half of the demons away. Sam glanced back at his men and nodded. They continued on as the sounds of protest grew, calling out to see the king, and finally they got to the throne room and Sam simply lifted a hand and flung the door inward.

"You want to see me?" he demanded of the demons who quieted enough to look over at him. "You want to air your grievances to the court?" He changed the grip on his angel blade and planted his feet. "Then come on, why don't you say it to my face?"

The demons blinked for a second, seeming to be surprised that Sam was even there, but it didn't take them long to change their mind. When the other door slammed open and Winston's men poured in, the crowd was divided between the two forces and knew their only way out was to fight.

And Sam was ready to bring it to them.

_~~~~~~~_

_Castiel wanted to smack_ Dean upside the head for actually getting himself caught, but at the moment, he was too busy trying not to scream as Kipling shoved an angel blade through his side.

He ground his teeth together and let out a groan that soon turned to a strangled cry.

"For the last time, the bastard lied!" Dean shouted at Naomi as he strained against the runes that held him. "Hell, I'd expect an angel, of all people, especially one with such a big stick of their ass, would know better than to trust a demon!"

Kipling chuckled and Castiel was unable to hold back another cry as the demon yanked the blade out of him. "You think she would trust you over anyone else? Please, Dean, I knew you were delusional but I didn't know you were stupid."

Dean growled as Kipling left Castiel's side and walked back over to the captive Winchester, as Naomi reached over and grabbed a fistful of his hair, wrenching his head back.

"Normally I wouldn't consider such a disgusting business venture," Naomi sniffed. "But I'd trust even a demon over the Winchesters, after everything you've done." She pressed her blade against his chest. "Tell me the details of your plan, or I'll let Kipling start to carve pieces off of Castiel. It's nothing we can't fix once we get him back to Heaven."

"For the last friggin' time, lady, I can't tell you anything, because there's _nothing to tell._ You think I'm joking?"

"I think you lie," Naomi said simply and slashed him across the chest.

Castiel shouted a protest, trying to breathe through the pain ripping through him. He had been trying to find a way out of this for the last fifteen minutes of Naomi and Kipling's pointless torture session. He had hoped that the trap wouldn't work on Dean, or wouldn't be strong enough to hold him for long, but that didn't seem likely anymore, so it was up to him, which…

Castiel glanced down at the runes surrounding him as their captors were occupied with Dean. The few demons who were left were enjoying watching the torture, so no one was watching Castiel at the moment. There were drops of his blood spattered on the ground around him, some over the paint on the floor. He shifted slightly until he could reach one of the runes with the toe of his shoe and started scraping at it. He instantly felt a shift when he scraped through it and continued with any of the sigils he could reach. By the time Kipling and Naomi had finished with Dean for the moment Castiel thought that he should be able to escape the Enochian trap. Now he just had to find a way to get himself unhooked.

"I don't have all day for this," Naomi snapped.

Kipling shrugged. "Don't worry, I'll move on to more persuasive methods." He leered up at Castiel as he stepped into the circle. "Only question is what to cut off first?"

That was when Castiel saw his opportunity. He gripped the chains attached to his cuffs and hefted himself up with a pained grunt, and wrapped his legs around Kipling's neck, yanking him close enough to sit on his shoulders. Kipling cried out, struggling, but the added height of his perch had given Castiel enough slack to unhook the cuff chain. He then wrapped the chain around Kipling's neck and pulled.

"Help…me!" Kipling croaked to Naomi, staggering around and clawing at the chain.

He toppled over, taking both himself and Castiel to the ground. The fall jolted the angel's injuries, but he shook it off and grabbed Kipling's dropped angel blade just as the guards rushed forward.

"Cas!" Dean shouted, straining against the runes again to no avail.

Castiel gritted his teeth and pushed himself to his feet, launching forward, only to be blocked by Duma.

"Castiel," she said warningly.

"Duma," Castiel returned and slammed the angel blade into her head before she could make a move. Her eyes rolled upwards and she fell.

"Get him!" Kipling growled. "Don't let him release the Knight!"

Demons launched themselves at Castiel, but he flung himself forward, skidding to a stop next to Dean and slashing the circle of runes that bound him.

Dean slumped, fingers spasming around his sword hilt before he straightened up.

He grinned and clapped Castiel on the shoulder before they helped each other up and faced their opponents. Dean used his sword to simply slice through the chain on Castiel's manacles, freeing his hands to make fighting easier.

Dean's eyes flicked black. "Let's finish this."

_~~~~~~~_

_Sam lashed out_ with his angel blade at the demons who surrounded him, propelling others away with his powers. The battle was raging in the throne room, but his men were holding their own.

Sam sensed a demon at his back, and could almost feel the blade raised against him, but there was a terrible growl and an agonized scream and as Sam whipped around, he saw Juliet ripping his would-be attacker's throat out. She looked up at him proudly, and Sam gave her a brief scratch behind the ears.

"Good girl," he said and glanced around in the short respite.

It was then he spotted Wheatly and his eyes blew wide. The Steward was whirling his spear around like a madman, creating a wide swatch of open space around him. He stabbed it straight through a demon who had gotten too close, and looked up to see Sam.

"Your majesty!"

Sam hurried to his side and they stood back to back.

"How are we doing, do you think?" Sam asked him as he lashed out at a demon and raised his hand to throw several more back.

"I believe we're winning, my lord," Wheatly expertly slit a demon's throat with the tip of his spear. "But the odds aren't quite in your favor yet."

Sam nodded and watched as Juliet bounded through the battle, taking out yet another opponent. It wouldn't be too much longer.

Another push from Winston's side and more of the rebels fell. Sam took out two more and decided it was now or never. He would rather not lose half his subjects in one day after all.

"Wheatly," he said.

"Yes, your majesty," the Steward replied and made a signal to the others with his spear, finishing by impaling another demon who tried to lunge at him.

Sam dropped his angel blade and raised his hands, eyes turning black. "Enough!"

His voice echoed across the fighting and he clenched his fists. All the opposing rebels halted their movements, eyes widening, terrified as Sam applied pressure and then threw his hands out to his sides. He flung them all against the walls of the throne room where they stayed immobile, struggling against his hold.

He took a deep breath. This was harder than he'd thought. Maybe he should have waited until a few more demons had been taken out.

"You're all rebelling for nothing," he said. "Kipling lied to all of you. We have no deal with Heaven, and neither does Castiel for that matter. He hasn't been with Heaven for years. The contracts we don't sign off on get burned, annulled. There's nothing more to it than that, do you hear me?"

The rebels struggled against his hold. A bead of sweat rolled down Sam's brow and Wheatly glanced at him with concern. Sam gritted his teeth. "So, you all have a choice to make. You either continue to defend Kipling—who's the one who really killed Sykes, by the way—or you can serve me again and we'll forget this whole thing happened as soon as Kipling is punished."

The demons glanced around, murmuring. Sam applied pressure, causing cracks to start spider-webbing out on the walls as the demons gave a collective groan. "What will it be?!" he demanded.

"Your majesty," one wheezed. "We'll serve your majesty."

There were nods and admissions of consent. Sam released the demons after another long moment and they fell to the ground as he sucked in a deep breath, feeling a dull ache behind his eyes. He'd never manipulated that many demons at once before.

"Well done, your majesty, if I may," Wheatly said with a small smile then stepped forward, planting his spear against the ground and glowering at all the rebels. "On your knees. Beg your king for forgiveness and swear your fealty to him again!"

The rebel demons all scrambled to the center of the room to kneel in front of Sam as the other demons watched them closely, weapons drawn.

"You'll all be on probation for the next two weeks," Sam told them. "If I see anything I don't like you'll be joining Kipling at the block. Maybe next time you'll remember to do some fact checking before you follow whatever an idiot tells you."

Sam glanced over at Winston. "See to it that they're all looked after and organize a clean-up."

The demon saluted and turned to bark orders as Sam turned to Wheatly.

The Steward had several tears in his suit and his hair had fallen over his forehead, but he was currently trying to push it back to its usual neatness. "What now, my lord?" he asked.

Sam frowned. "Dean isn't back with Cas yet. I think we may need to launch a rescue. Gather a few men and meet me at the gate."

"Of course, your majesty."

Sam whistled for Juliet and she bounded to his side, covered in blood, but looking pleased with herself. Sam couldn't help but smile.

"You did good, girl. We'll have a treat later. Right now, we need to go rescue Uncle Dean."

_~~~~~~~_

_Dean and Cas made short work_ of the rest of Kipling's demons despite their injuries. Kipling and Naomi however were proving a little more difficult. Dean hadn't realized the smarmy bastard could fight as well as he did.

"Face it, Dean," Kipling sneered at him. "You and your brother will never really be able to cut it ruling Hell. You don't belong there! You'll always be the hunters who rose through the ranks by nothing better than a prank. You're a _joke_!"

Dean chuckled. "Not as much a joke as the demon who tried to start a rebellion and ended up getting his head cut off."

Kipling grinned as he ducked under Dean's blow, before coming back up and slashing him across the ribs, making yet another tear in Dean's jacket that he was going to repay in kind. "Is that so? You really think your brother is still even alive back there."

"Yeah, I do," Dean said confidently. "Because he's a lot smarter than you take him for."

Kipling gave a mock pout. "Oh well, I guess I need someone to send your head to. And with you dead and your angel pal locked up in Heaven, the very name Winchester burned from his mind by Naomi's hand, Sammy won't last long."

Kipling lunged forward, stabbing at Dean. Dean pivoted, feeling the blade graze across his hip, as he grabbed Kipling's wrist and slammed it against his knee. The demon's blade clattered to the ground and Dean kicked him between the legs, bringing him down, his eyes flashing black as he raised his blade, teasing done.

"It's over, Kip. Long live the king." He swung the blade as Kipling's eyes blew wide right before Dean struck his head from his shoulders. It rolled a few feet away as Dean kicked the body in the center of the chest and it crumpled to the ground.

"Good frickin' riddance," he muttered.

Cas cried out in pain, causing Dean to whip around, remembering that the angel was fighting with Naomi. The second angel had joined in now and slashed Cas across the back.

"Cas!" Dean shouted, surging forward to help when Naomi spun around and thrust her hand out. Dean shouted as he was slammed into the ground as if poleaxed. The other angel caught Cas from behind, her blade pressed against his throat, his sword arm wrenched behind his back, immobilizing his own blade.

"Dean," Cas panted, struggling against her hold. He looked awful, covered in blood, and the sight made Dean furious, but Naomi was advancing on him, her eyes blazing.

"Since the demon couldn't finish the job, I suppose I'll have to do it myself," she said. "Really, I've left you Winchesters too long and I suppose I've nearly paid for it dearly. But now everything will be set to rights. We will refuse the souls on the list, and you at least will be dead, your brother soon to follow. And Castiel will go back to his rightful place as a soldier of Heaven."

"As a robot, you mean," Dean grunted, straining against her hold. "Nice try, sister, but that ain't gonna happen."

She smiled. "You seem to underestimate me, Dean. That has always been your worse fault." She raised her blade and Dean fought against her hold again.

Cas growled and wrenched himself from the other angel's grip, elbowing her in the head and throwing her aside before he rushed forward.

Naomi turned around, just in time to get Cas' blade slammed into her chest.

She gasped, eyes widening. Her own blade slid from nerveless fingers as she stared at Castiel.

The angel growled at her. "I will never be your puppet again, Naomi. Neither will any of the other angels. Your tyranny is at an end."

He angled the blade and Naomi threw her head back with a cry, exploding in a super nova, her wings burning against the ground when she fell.

Dean sat up as Cas sank to his knees, panting, and clutching at the wound in his side. Dean reached out and gripped his shoulder to steady both of them.

"You look like crap," Dean told him.

Cas gave him a longsuffering look. "Yes, well, this is the second time today I've had to rescue you, even though I was the one who was supposed to be the bait."

Dean rolled his eyes, crawling to his feet with a wince and reaching down to help Cas up. "Yeah, okay, fine. It was a sucky rescue."

The other angel rose, looking at them wearily. Dean brandished his katana, but Cas put a hand on his arm to stay him.

"Wait. Don't kill her, there—there are too few angels left," Cas said and Dean reluctantly lowered the blade as Cas turned to Duma. "But I don't want to see you meddling in the Winchesters' affairs again, Duma. You or any of the other angels."

"But what he said…" she protested, glancing over at Kipling's body.

"He was lying," Dean said firmly. "Okay? Why the hell would we want Heaven? We have enough issues to deal with in Hell. Got it?"

"But what will we do?" Duma asked, looking lost.

"You'll figure it out for yourselves," Cas told her, not unkindly. "It's about time you learn how to do that. I think you'll find that things run better without Naomi."

Duma looked like she wanted to say something else, but Dean adjusted his grip on his katana and she took the hint. Swallowing hard, she hurried toward the nearest exit and pushed through the door.

Cas sighed heavily and his shoulders slumped as he curled in on himself, face creased in pain.

Dean grabbed his elbow to steady him. "Come on, man, let's get you out of here and patched up. We need to see how Sammy's doing."

The door to the warehouse slammed off its hinges and skidded across the floor, startling both Dean and Cas who swung their weapons up as a crowd poured into the room, Sam at their head.

They all skidded to a halt as they saw Dean and Cas standing there amid dead bodies.

"Hey," Dean said, waving his sword around. "You missed the party."

Sam looked around, snorting. "Yeah, looks like it. You two okay?"

"Relatively," Dean grunted and staggered back as Juliet bounded forward, sniffing him and Cas before licking blood off his hand. "No! Bad dog!" Dean growled.

"Juliet," Sam chided, then to Dean, "She's just making sure you're okay."

She backed up and went over to sniff Kipling's corpse before lifting a leg and peeing on it. Dean snorted a laugh.

"Okay, maybe she's not so bad after all."

"I see you took care of things here," Sam said.

"All in a day's work," Dean said wearily. "How's Hell?"

"Functioning," Sam said then shrugged. "Barely."

"But the rebels have been quelled," Wheatly added, stepping forward. "And now we will have to see to cleanup."

"Yeah, speaking of, we need to get someone on this," Dean nodded to the corpses. He had to admit he was really glad to have help with the corpse disposal. There was nothing worse than getting captured, tortured, escaping, and then having to do all the grave digging too.

Sam frowned as he looked at Dean and Cas. "You two look awful. We need to get you back."

"I'll see to things here, my lord," Wheatly told him and Sam nodded, giving Cas a shoulder as Dean sheathed his katana and pulled his jacket away from his body, making a face as he noted all the holes.

"Dammit, those sons of bitches ruined my favorite jacket!"

"Am I supposed to be upset for you?" Cas asked blandly.

Dean glowered at him. "You think I'm not going to replace it?"

"I suppose we can't be that lucky," Sam replied.

"Assholes," Dean grumbled as he limped after them. At least the rebellion was put down before it got out of hand. It could be worse.

But this time Dean was definitely demanding a few days off.


	7. Chapter Six

By the time they got back to Hell it was quiet. Demons slunk around, heads bowed, murmuring honorifics to Sam as they passed, scurrying faster if Juliet growled at them. They seemed cowed and Sam desperately hoped that there would be at least a short period where he didn't have to deal with anything but helping patch his brothers up and resting. He hadn't really sustained any injuries during the fight, but exerting that much of his power had left him with a headache and a full-body exhaustion now that the adrenaline had worn off. He just wanted some coffee, a couple aspirin, and a nap.

Cas was leaning more heavily against Sam by then and he could tell the angel was holding back groans by clenching his teeth. Sam wasn't entirely sure how badly he was injured, but he had lost quite a bit of blood.

"This place is a mess," Dean muttered as he limped ahead to their suite, throwing the door open. "At least they didn't get into our rooms though."

"Don't worry, your dirty socks would scare off anyone," Sam muttered as he lowered Cas onto the couch. There was a knock at the door and Sam turned with a sigh, but when he saw Winston, he straightened up.

"My lord, we have seen to the disposal of the bodies in the throne room," the demon reported.

"Everything seems to be quiet," Sam noted.

Winston nodded. "So far, my lord. We're watching the defunct rebels closely. But I don't think they'll be a problem without Kipling. These kinds of rebellions are fierce but they go away quickly. It probably won't be the last one, but you'll learn to get used to them."

Sam smiled. "Yeah, I'm sure I will."

Winston bowed and went back to work as Sam turned and joined Dean who had pulled out their vast collection of first aid stuff—that really far exceeded first aid.

"Here, I'll take care of Cas, Dean. Why don't you go clean up and then I'll patch you up too?"

"Alright," Dean said and slid his ruined jacket off with a sigh, tossing it into a corner where Juliet instantly snagged it and shook it around, using it as a chew toy.

"Freaking dog," Dean growled as he went to grab new clothes and take a shower.

Cas was already slumping to the side as Sam helped him get his coats and shirt off, careful to ease away the fabric stuck to the blood on his shoulder and side. He felt fury well up in his chest as he saw the damage Kipling had done to his friend. He kind of wished he hadn't gotten to the fight so late. He would have enjoyed getting a few hits in himself, or at least watching Dean cut his head off.

"Sam," Cas said. "Don't be discouraged by this. This is just a typical aspect of ruling. You can't expect everything to go smoothly."

"I know," Sam said, laying the stuff he would need out on the coffee table. "I guess it was my fault for thinking I was doing a good job."

Cas smiled slightly. "Well, you've done better than me."

"Maybe, but I've only done as well as I have because of you and Dean," Sam said sincerely. "And I'll continue to do so for the same reason."

When Dean got out of the shower, he came to help Sam with Cas' injuries. Some needed stitches, and while they patched the angel up, Dean and Cas related what had happened to Sam.

"So, Kipling came up with the story that we were sending souls to Heaven to act as sleeper cells and Naomi actually bought it?" Sam asked incredulously.

"She probably wouldn't have for long," Cas grunted. "I think she was just more interested with the idea of getting rid of all of her problems at once."

Sam shook his head. "Still, it's a little far-fetched."

"I don't know, I'd probably agree with Kipling just to make him go away," Dean said, finishing up the last stitches in Cas' side. "And who knows? I mean, Metatron stabbed a drill in her head, maybe it made her even more crazy than she was before. But it's over now. At least until the next problem. You know, sometimes I really hate Hell."

Sam smirked. "Yeah, but, you know what? I think it also kind of grows on you."

Dean snorted. "Yeah, like herpes—it's not going away and you're stuck with it. But I do kinda understand what you mean too."

Sam gave a small laugh. "Don't worry, we're taking some time off as soon as I sort all this out. In the meantime, you and Cas should rest. When Wheatly comes back I'll have him help me reorganize stuff here."

"And when are you going to rest?" Dean demanded.

Sam sighed. "Trust me, I'll be resting soon enough. But I need to inform the court of Kipling's death. Quell any further thoughts of rebellion."

They finished patching Cas up and with Sam's urging the angel stretched out on the couch and was almost instantly asleep. Sam pulled a blanket over him and felt another twist of fury. He could have lost his best friend today because of this—dragged back to Heaven to endure the one thing he feared the most at the hands of his old enemy. Sometimes Sam really hated demons and their petty stupidity. If only he could find a way to get rid of that.

But he'd also discovered that some of his subjects were loyal enough to him to go into battle against their own. Sam had even been surprised to see that Wheatly had shown him true loyalty, not just his usual attitude of put-upon duty. Perhaps they had done good here after all. Cas was right, he shouldn't feel bad just because of a couple rebels trying to make trouble.

"You ready?" Dean asked him, strapping on his katana.

Sam nodded and whistled to Juliet who had made a shredded mess of Dean's coat. "Juliet, guard Cas," he said, knowing that if anyone thought it was a good idea to harass a wounded angel, Juliet would teach them the error of their ways.

Juliet trotted over and sniffed Cas before sitting down firmly beside the couch.

Dean didn't look convinced that this was a good idea, but Sam urged him out of the room, locking the door behind them.

They ran into Wheatly and the others Sam had left at the warehouse and Sam asked the steward to assemble the court.

Once they all got in the throne room—still with some traces of blood on the floor, Sam noticed—he stood next to Dean on the dais, looking out at the gathered demons.

"Kipling is dead," he started with. "As promised, I will spare all of those who were involved in the rebellion as long as you don't try to challenge us again. The fact is, Kipling was spreading lies, and I'm sorry any of you had to die for that. He told you we were working with the angels, but the truth was, he was actually the one working with them. And he lied to them too, telling them that we were sending souls up there to start our own rebellion." He paused, pulling his shoulders back. "I took over down here because I wanted to avoid these issues. I promise never to lie to you and never to make major decisions without talking them over with the court. I care about your opinions, and I want to make sure Hell is functioning as efficiently as it can. I think most of you want that too, and I hope we can all strive to work together to keep it that way."

There were nods and murmurs of agreement from the gathered demons, which made Sam feel a little lighter. "But I stand by my rules about the crossroads deals. Maybe try to focus on making better deals, instead of seeing how many you can make a month. Okay?"

He went over a few other things and then he and Dean left, leaving Wheatly to answer any questions in his office.

"You know, you really aren't so bad at the whole king thing, little brother," Dean said with a grin.

Sam elbowed him but smiled. "Yeah, shut up."

Dean elbowed him back and winced as he jarred his injuries. "Ow. I want to sleep for a week. At least one of the perks of this whole thing is accelerated healing. That does come in handy."

"Yeah," Sam said tiredly, rubbing his head.

Dean glanced at him sideways. "Did you overtax yourself?"

Sam shrugged. "Not too much. Didn't get a nosebleed or anything."

"Well, you had better get some rest. And tomorrow if everything is stable down here, we're going back to the bunker."

Sam smiled. "I think that sounds like a good idea."

"But right now, I'm hitting the sack," Dean said as they got back into their suite. "Wake me up if I need to chop off any more heads."

Sam snorted, and closed the door behind them again. "I promise not to do any head-chopping without you." He glanced over at Cas who was resting peacefully, even if he still had a few lines of pain across his face. Sam leaned over him and adjusted the blanket around the angel's shoulders before he patted Juliet who was still dutifully sitting beside the couch.

She tried to follow him into his room and her usual place at the foot of his bed, but Sam stopped her.

"Not tonight, girl. You stay with Cas and watch over him. Make sure no one comes in here who shouldn't. Okay?"

Juliet huffed, looking a little forlorn, but jumped up onto the couch and laid across Cas' feet, resting her chin on his knee. Cas stirred slightly, but didn't wake. Sam smiled, but didn't disturb the angel or the hellhound. Cas might get a surprise when he woke, but Sam would feel better knowing he had a guard.

"Good girl," Sam told her softly and went to his own room. Sam knew Wheatly would handle anything that came up for the next few hours and most likely wouldn't disturb them unless there was a huge problem. Sam dressed in sweat pants and a t-shirt, setting his suit aside and, for the moment, his kingship with it.

He crawled into bed feeling his exhausted body relax as he settled down and closed his eyes.

Being King of Hell may not have been a job he'd ever have chosen for himself, but really…he had kind of grown fond of it. After all, it did have its perks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Raising Hell verse will be continued in "Pandemonium" (Coming in November)


End file.
